Beware the Jabberwock, My Son!
by Nemesis dan Impyrean
Summary: "You're crazy!" North blurted out. Jack had the gall to look wounded. "How do you know I'm mad?" he asked, twirling the sword in his hands. Somehow an entire collection of toys had amassed themselves behind him. When Jack noticed North's stare, he smiled his crooked smile. (Where Jack goes crazy with some Wonderlandian quotes in his words.)


New spirits and stories were often susceptible to being influenced by the dominant cultures of the time.

Thus did the spirit with no memory find himself infected with madness.

He did things without thought, thanks to the prevailing story that seeped into much of later literature. Although many spirits shook off it's influence, or were in fact not affected to begin with, he never truly freed himself from the insanity that took root.

"Jack? What are you doing?"

The boy looked up from where he crouched, smiling crookedly. "Long time the manxome foe he sought," the spirit said, his words sounding like a quote. "He left it dead, and with it's head, he went galumphing back." His hand twitched, and the dead yeti's neck no longer existed.

Blood dripped from nothing. It took a long moment for North to realize that Jack held a sword of ice, so clear it seemed invisible.

"Jack?" he said, uncertain. This was the Guardian of Fun. It was impossible for the scene before his eyes to be true.

But it was.

North drew his swords, ready to defend himself. Yetis littered the floor, each of them missing their head. Blood splattered along the walls, while there was not a single elf to be seen. North spared a thought for the toys. They would have to be remade - he could not send such things to the children.

The winter spirit stepped over the yeti, his smile slanting oddly. He swung the sword playfully, as if it were just a toy. "How long is forever?" he asked.

When North didn't reply, Jack answered himself. "Sometimes, just one second."

"That doesn't make any sense," North said. Jack ignored him, muttering to himself. Trying not to breathe in the smell of blood, North looked directly at the winter spirit. When Jack looked back, his eyes were pitch black. "It would be so nice if something made," Jack agreed, then ducked forward.

It was only North's quick reflexes that saved him from a grievous wound. As it was, he suffered a gash to his arm, diminishing his ability to wield his swords. Gritting his teeth, he parried Jack's next attack, barely holding him off.

Jack jumped back, tilting his head. Then he suddenly flew up into the rafters, sitting crosslegged on the ceiling. In his hands was a small trinket - a windup toy. He fiddled with it, seeming to have forgotten all about North. The winter spirit's sword was nowhere to be found.

Taking advantage of the fact, North hurriedly left the room, activating the Northern Lights. As he let go of the lever with some relief, he realized the Globe Room was very dark.

The lights were still on.

But there were no toys at all. And no yetis. All his yetis couldn't have been killed - right?

"Will you come and join the dance?"

North whirled around. Jack stood in the entryway, sitting on his staff like a witch sidesaddling her broom. He glided over the ground, circling to the right. North turned to keep him in sight as Jack sang, "Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?"

"What dance?" North said warily.

Jack's face fell. He came to a stop, hovering over the carpet. "Won't you join the dance?" the boy repeated, looking for all the world like a boy who's just been rejected.

In fact, were it not for the blood coating his hands and feet, North would have thought he dreamt the whole thing.

Were it not for the sharp pain blossoming in his leg, he wouldn't have believed Jack betrayed him so viciously. "Why?" he breathed, but couldn't manage another word. Though as he backed away, he heard Jack mutter, "If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn't -"

"You're crazy!" North blurted out.

Jack had the gall to look wounded. "How do you know I'm mad?" he asked, twirling the sword in his hands. Somehow an entire collection of toys had amassed themselves behind him. When Jack noticed North's stare, he smiled his crooked smile. "The more there is of mine," Jack said, "The less there is of yours."

With that, he stepped to the side. A hole opened up in the ground, and Bunny popped his head up. "North," he began, but got no further.

The rabbit's head rolled on the floor.


End file.
